


Faith

by adellama



Category: First Link - Fandom, Hyrule Historia, Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, hylink - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Hylia/Link - Freeform, Journey, Pre-Skyward Sword, hylink - Freeform, probably going to be long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adellama/pseuds/adellama
Summary: There are times when one's faith will be tested, times where it's easy to let go of any spirituality left within oneself and succumb to the wish that the end will be near.It was one of those times now, Link barely 17 and already punished for his third attempted escape. They weren't going to take any more chances with him, locking the clasps around his wrists and pulling them tightly by the chains strung through the wall. It hoisted him upwards, his back slamming against the rough stone wall, forcing a grunt out of the boy. He struggled and he yelled and he cussed out the guards, soon left with only the echoes of his voice running away through the long hallway in front of him. As the hours passed his voice began to break, his throat beginning to swell from its overuse as his eyes began to water.Tears ran down his hollowed cheeks and the dull thud of it hitting the stone floor was the only noise heard in the room. It would have never crossed his mind that he'd end up jailed in his future, especially not like this.





	1. - I -

 

 _Running though the sunset stained fields, he kept his balance well despite carrying almost twice his weight in fire wood on his back. Soon the trees began to thicken as the clear line between farmland and forest grew further and further behind him. He saw the familiar markings in the tree trunks that passed him, recognising the crests and symbols carved by those who dwelled further in the forest. Faron woods, the place of his birth and his mother's final resting place._  
_He reached the small village he called home, walking up to the doorstep to kick the dirt off his shoe before entering. Knocking loudly and announcing his entrance, he carefully unstrung the ropes that were holding the logs to his back and let them gently drop to the floor. He was sat up on the step, taking his shoes off to leave them by the door frame before carrying his wood inside._  
_"Link, is that you down the hall?"_  
_"Yes aunt Ofei! I've brought the firewood today!"_  
_Link ran down to meet the old woman, slowing to a jog when he received a scowl. "What have I told you about running in this house? You'll wear the boards thin!"_  
_"Sorry aunt Ofei. But look! I carried lots today!" He knelt on the floor and loosened the remaining ropes so that he could pull out the wood and start counting Ofei's share. She sang out that she wanted four logs this time and disappeared into the bedroom to fetch her rupees. Link counted out the best four of his gatherings and started piling them into her wood box. She walked back into the living area and placed a beautiful blue rupee into his little hands. "Aunt Ofei, I only gave you four logs this time! I only need eight green ones."_  
_"I'd like to give you this blue one today Link. No more about this now, I'll help you tie your wood back on." She bent over and picked up the wood by the rope as Link pocketed the rupee, a boyish grin growing on his face. Ofei tied the ropes around his shoulders and knotted them at the front for him. "Link, I think you've gotten taller again."_  
_"Yes! Uncle Turro said I'll soon be tall enough to collect the tree harvests, he said I'll be tall enough by the end of my twelfth winter!"_  
_"Your twelfth winter? How many winters have you lived through?"_  
_"Nine!"_  
_"Nine winters old? No wonder you're as tall as my breast. Now you better hurry along and give the other folks their wood before it gets too dark for you to find your boots."_  
_"Yes, thank you aunt Ofei! Don't forget your prayers to the goddess tonight!"_

 

 

It was well and truly dark when he opened his eyes, startled by the pain in his wrists and he moved. _Oh, right._ He was jailed, dreaming of the simpler times as a child. He could feel his stomach shrinking with grief, the absence of food beginning to drain his head of all it's thought. He called out, met only with the familiar echo of his own voice strained beyond recognition against the stone walls. He sadly shook his arm, biting back a pained sigh as he accidentally opened an old wound his wrist. He was quickly losing hope that someone would come tend to him after hearing the rattle of his chains, but he wasn't ready to give up yet.  
He spent hours, what could've been days, drifting between conscious and unconscious. That became his life, waiting for the rare chances a guard would come by and loosen his chains enough to let him fall to the floor, being stripped of his soiled clothes as he was given stale food and clouded water to nourish himself. At first it was difficult to eat while so exposed in front of the guard, ingrained embarrassment prompting him to try keep his decency while he ate in the nude, but he soon grew to forget that, using every second he had to stretch out his thinning muscles as he inhaled his small portions of food, taking the opportunity to urinate on the stone floor instead of the fabric of his pants. The guards only washed his clothes once, putting them on him while they were still heavy and wet. After that they got lazy, shaking out the fecal mess onto the floor and pouring a bucket of old water on them before dressing him and stringing him up against the wall again. Even the pure disgust soon faded through dissociation, his thoughts slurring before his own comprehension.  
It would always chill him to the bone, an involuntary shiver taking over his body as his skin soon closely resembled his bones. Cold was the most familiar temperature on his body, even after his shirt had dried onto his back he could still feel it dripping in his dehydrated delusions. He wanted to say it was months, but it was seemingly years of this mistreatment and neglect making it hard to breathe, his skin stretching to allow his every inhale, breaking out into the ugliest of bruises with the lightest of pressure. He had given up on rattling his chain to draw the attention of guards supposed to be stationed in front of his cell, had given up crying as he tried to save what little hydration he could retain, had even given up on his own voice as his tongue grew too heavy. His faith had all but diminished, whatever reasoning to hold onto his hope falling out of reach as it became impossible to convince himself that his own spirit was strong, let alone spiritually.  
There was once a time where he had hoped that any being, whether it was his goddess or not, would take pity on him when his body had thinned to almost a third of his original weight. He had tried so hard to hold onto that hope, to keep the innocent strength he held onto since he was a child. But as his body grew so weak that he could barely lift his tongue in prayer, the remaining fractions of faith had left him. He grew hollow not only in his stomach but also in his soul.

 

 _No older than three winters was the first time he had gotten lost. He was caught up in picking from a particularly ripe bush, crawling around the side to reach more of the berries. He got carried away, filling his basket until it overflowed with beautiful red berries. A lot of time had passed, but his young mind didn't quite comprehend how long it had been, only that he was now alone with a basket overfilled with berries in a part of the forest he didn't know very well. He tried to listen for the other women, to see if their usual laughter and chatter would lead him to them, but he ended up wandering even further into the forest. The sun was beginning to set, and his young mind didn't know what to do. As he kept walking, he heard noises, the usual ambience of the forest beginning to spook him._  
_He heard a loud rustle, stopping in his tracks to listen. He heard a tiny snort, a wild boar snuffing out the ground. Link stood still, trying to remember what his father had told him about boars from his hunting stories. He didn't have time to think as two more boars emerged from nearby shrubbery, one of them a good deal bigger than himself. It was the mother, letting out a terrifying squeal before charging at him. He dropped his basket and ran as fast as he could, unsure of how to get away. Running as fast as his little legs could carry him, he tried to turn corners and lose the angry mother. He grew tired quickly, and tried to climb a tree quickly. He was glad his mother taught him how to climb, wishing that she'd find him quickly. He sat up high in the branches, holding on for dear life as the mother began ramming the tree. Leaves rustled loudly, Link beginning to cry with how scared he was, waiting for the sun to set and for the boars to wander off into the night. He was too scared to move even after they had left, clinging onto the branches so tightly his knuckles went white._  
_He must've fallen asleep from the exhaustion, as he remembered waking up in an instant when he began to fall. He almost did fall when he over-corrected himself, but luckily he held on tightly with his legs. He started crying again, unsure what to make of it, calling out sadly to see if his mother was nearby. He was starving, the hungriest he'd ever been. He didn't even know his stomach could feel this empty. When his tears ran out he was left with only sniffles, trying to look into the forest from where he was sitting._  
_He closed his eyes in prayer, the unwavering faith of a child muttering the most informal of prayers. He didn't quite understand how prayer worked, but he was tired and scared and just wanted to be with his mother once again. When he opened his eyes, he could've sworn he saw the ghost of a lady behind a tree further into the forest. Her presence made him feel safe, calming enough to stop his sniffling. One blink and she was gone, the cool breeze forcing him to huddle in on himself further. It seemed the goddess had heard his prayer when he heard the familiar booming voice of his uncle, yelling out as fresh tears streamed his cheeks._

 

 

His head hit the stone wall behind him as he was forced awake. It took him far too long to gather his surroundings, unsure of why there were three men standing in front of him. They waited until he seemed to have come to, announcing themselves with such formality that Link barely understood.  
"... Do you understand what we are asking of you Link?"  
He just stared at the men, unsure if he could revive his dead tongue to talk to them. After an uncomfortably long silence, one of the men repeated himself. "We are after a swordsman, we have lost too many men to keep our defences. If you help fight alongside our men, your sentence shall be lifted, free to live as an ordinary man after we've won the war."  
Link stared in disbelief at the trio, sighing as they stood adamantly and awaited his answer. He cleared his throat, trying to lick his lips in an attempt to wet his mouth. "I am no swordsman."  
His voice was came out as a defeated croak, much deeper than he remembered, but still much higher in pitch compared to the men standing in front of him. The men seemed startled by how ugly his voice sounded in their ears, Link seeing them try to keep composed before continuing. "You know how to wield a sword, do you not?"  
Link nodded, remembering the years he spent training with his uncle to prepare for the hunt. "Then you are indeed a swordsman."  
"I do not wish to fight for you."  
"Do you not wish to fight alongside your fellow men to protect our land?" The cell fell silent, Link unable to think of the right string of words that could describe how against it he felt. He wanted to protect his land, unaware of it ever being in danger, but there was no way he'd ever be able to fight alongside men again. He'd been estranged, he knew that his time spent rotting against this wall had separated him from any man who would consider him fellow, that he'd be shun and beat and stripped even further of the honour he lost the second he was accused and sent to this jail.  
And that was if he could even hold a sword any longer, he was unsure if he even remembered how to walk after spending so long strung up against the wall like a dangerous animal. "Link, we do not want you alongside our men, but we have run out of options. We need men to fight this war."  
"War? How long has this land been at war without my knowledge?"  
"Didn't you know? It had almost been seven years of us steadily losing men to the monsters that wish to eradicate us."  
"Monsters?"  
"Yes, now will you fight alongside us or not?"  
Link stared at them, unable to believe that a war had been raging outside the walls he was strung against. The land he had grown up in, the land he knew since he was young now land that needed protecting. He couldn't understand, the news too big a shock for him. He looked down and noticed the men walking away, disappearing into the darkness.

 

He woke as he heard a guard loosen his chains. He loosened them too quickly, making him fall to the ground. The guard seemed indifferent as he poured a bucket of water over him, knocking Link over; no longer worth the time it took to strip him. He hadn't brought any food with him, only a small cup of water Link now struggled to lift. He could barely hold his own posture, hunching so far into himself he could see how far his ribs jutted out, skin stretched so thin he felt as though one breath could tear it and cause him to bleed to death. He was honestly surprised that he hadn't already met his end through starvation, but he didn't have long to think over it when another guard called down the hall. He rushed off at his summon, leaving Link a mess on the floor. He tried to get up, to crawl to the open cell door and make one final escape. He found himself dizzy at the smallest of movements, the weight of his wet clothes dragging him down. It became too much, forcing him to lie his head on the cold and dirty floor, closing his eyes as he felt his consciousness fading much faster than he expected. He was going limp, the numbness working its way to his thoughts. He was scared, without an ounce of energy to show it. He wasn't ready, no one ever could be, but he wondered if his mother felt the same way during her passing. It had been seemingly seven years, if not longer, since he last sent out a prayer to his goddess. It amused him, that his dying thoughts were to a goddess he had long lost his faith to, yet at death's calling it seemed only appropriate.

 

Finally she felt something, a very weak prayer whispered upon the wind and carried into her ear. She could sense where he was, that fleeting connection between the two already fading fast. She nudged her loftwing, hastening his glide eastward. She had to get there as fast as she could, there wasn't much time left. The crimson loftwing let out a loud cry as the jail came into view, Hylia looking over his wing to see many a man fleeing the stone walls. She feared the recent prayers of safety were what prompted so many of the guards to leave, travelling quickly to the nearby village.  
By the time she had landed, the jail was deserted, save one. She rushed inside, the harrowing echo of her sandals against the stone hallways only heightening her desperation. She held onto that faint connection, hoping to find the exact cell he was being held in, worrying that it'd be severed before she could get to him. The jail seemed endless, countless turns and endless hallways, until she finally came across a barred door. She pushed it open, her gown flowing behind her as she reached the other end of this long cell, falling towards the floor once she stopped at the boy lying by her feet. She wasted no time in crouching down, pushing aside her repulsion at the smell and feel of his damp and mucky cloth.  
It was him.  
She lifted his head, placing a hand just below his jaw, hoping to feel his heartbeat. It was faint, dangerously faint. She hoisted him up, a solemn concern washing over her as she noticed how light the boy was. But she didn't have time to worry over that right now, she had to get him out. Securing him in a bridal hold, she ran out of the jail and out to her loftwing, holding him tightly until they landed.  
She had a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooof finally I post the hylink fic I have been working on, it seems like forever holy shit  
> I wont update regularly, its best to just say that now lmao, I'm in my final year of school and it's already taken me all year to be happy enough with this first chapter to post, so bear with me plz  
> anyway thanks for reading <3


	2. - II -

_It was dark, the rain from the storm so loud it sounded as though it would tear the building apart. He clutched the sword closely, too shaken with fear to even unwrap it from it's cloth. Thunder cracked, he jumped, and tears began to fall. He didn't like the dark and he had now found that he didn't like storms either._   
_It seemed like forever until his uncle and father had come through the door, soaking wet as they helped each other remove their outer layers to hang. His uncle was startled when he lit a candle and saw his nephew huddled in the corner. Sitting down next to the boy while his brother in law hung both their wet cloaks, he wrapped his arms around him and tried his best to comfort him. He had no idea how his late sister had managed to calm him down every time, he also hadn't realised how truly frightened his little boy was. His father came to sit with them, silently taking the cloth bundle from his son to examine it. He unwrapped it carfeully, Link's teary eyes watching carefully as he did so. Inside was his mothers sword, the leather scabbard carefully sewn together and embroidered by her late self. His father smiled, wiping a tear from his cheek._   
_"Why do you hold this, son?" Link was still too scared to say anything, but it wasn't unusual for the boy to fall into silence, especially after his mothers passing. His uncle rubbed his shoulder, calming him to silent tears. "What were you going to have done with this sword Link?"_   
_His father waited patiently for his reply, running his thumb over the hilt absent mindedly. Link just shook his head, no words able to form in his mouth. His uncle smiled, and spoke softly to the two of them. "You know, when I was around your age, I hated storms like this also. The only difference between us is that I was rather stupid when I was younger."_   
_"Turro, you forget that every boy is stupid until he becomes a man." His fathers response caused a small laugh, Link remembering the stories his mother told of her husband and brother and their friends in their boyhood._   
_"Link, my nephew, there is one stupid tale I believe your mother has not told you." Link sat up, feeling a little less scared with the company of father and god father alike. A crack of thunder and he let out a yelp, his father letting out a deep and throaty laugh as he placed his wife's sword to his side and invited his son to sit in his lap. "Now Link, what I will be telling you is to be held in the strictest confidence. You understand?"_   
_"Turro my brother, he is but a child! Do you think he will understand those formal words?"_   
_"Father, I know he wants me to keep it a secret!"_   
_"Iram, it seems he is less stupid than we were at his age," his uncle exclaimed with a deep laugh, causing his brother and nephew to burst into laughter with him. Once they had calmed, he took a deep breath to tell his tale._   
_"Now Link, I was around the same age as you, much shorter mind you, but a similar age. One evening it had begun to rain so heavily, it gave your mother and myself a fright! We ran inside, quickly pulling off our boots and stripping right down to our underwear together. The candles had blown out, much like they had here before we arrived, so we sat on our parent's bed together to stay warm. Being a boy filled with stupidity, and your sister so frightened she was almost in tears, neither of us thought to open our chests and put on an indoor coat, so we were freezing together. The rain got louder, scaring me with every thunder that rolled across the sky. Your mother began to cry, huddling close into my shoulder, and I felt positively angry that a simple storm had made my sister cry and shake like a baby. So I got up, and grabbed my fathers sword, and marched right out into the rain."_   
_"But uncle Turro, why would you go out into the rain if you were so frightened?"_   
_"Well, my nephew, I was so overcome with anger that my sister was so upset by this thunderstorm that I felt the need to do something. I had marched right out there, in my autumn underwear mind you, and unsheathed your grandfathers sword. I began to yell, hitting as many droplets of rain as I could. My sister watched from the front window, her tears replaced with laughter as I made an absolute fool of myself out in the rain. I'm sure the whole village could see me, trying to slay the rain with a sword much too heavy for my current hand, and in my underwear to top it all off. Soon, our parents came back from the forest, their heads huddled as they tried to protect their forage from being soaked. I can still hear my fathers voice boom with anger across the village square, marching over with each foot slapping the muddied floor in rage. He ripped the sword from my grip, then with his other hand dragged me inside as mother placed the forage by the fireplace and began to light it._   
_Boy, was my father angry. He castigated me right in front of my sister, who mind you was no longer weeping due to my help. After my father had run out of scoldings, he went to examine his sword by the fire, and as soon as he did he came right back with more! The rain had washed the wax right off his blade and he was furious! However, I didn't mind the lecturing this time, for I had helped my sister, and I had learnt my lesson through a stupid mistake. When I was ordered to clean and re-wax my fathers blade, I was able to sit with my sister by the fire as she helped mother sort through the forage, both of us silent as father wrung out all our wet clothes to dry._   
_You see, Link? Now when I hear the rain begin to pour and hear the thunder rolling across the sky above, I no longer feel the same fear I once did as a boy. I laugh within my head, thinking how foolish it was to try and slay the rain, when all I did was ruin the wax coating on my own fathers sword. I pray to our Goddess that you never fear the rain as you once did, but to hear my boyhood foolishness and learn from my mistakes."_

 

He felt the damp air on his hollowed cheeks, his ears slowly filling with the sounds of an evening rain. He felt awful, barely able to breathe without his own chest rising and falling putting him out of breath. Slowly his eyes began to open, the feeling of a thousand sleeps weighing them down and only just starting to lift.   
The first that he saw was the white of her gown, next the blonde waterfall of hair cascading down her back. She was busy attending the fire in front of her, her back turned to him. His eye was drawn to movement to the side of her, startled when he saw the incredibly large bird readjust itself. He had never seen an animal so large, let alone a bird.  
He wanted to call out, and get the attention of the woman, to ask why he had been moved form the jail, but his tongue was dry. The last time he had forced his dry tongue to speak he watched as those in front of him were horrified by how badly his voice had aged, he cowered at the thought of scaring the lady before him with the horrible scratches he would push from his throat. So he sat and watched, far too weak to hold a steady breath let alone move from his spot, positioned against the root of a large tree.   
Soon she turned, startled when she saw his sunken eyes looking right at her. "I am sorry to have jumped, I was only startled by your apparent wake." She smiled at him, a heavenly smile he felt unworthy of witnessing. She promptly poured him a bowl of some kind of soup she had been brewing atop the campfire, carefully walking towards him and settling down right next to him.   
He became embarrassed, only too aware of how horrid he must look and smell, not wishing to have her this close while he was in this state. But, his tongue cowered, and she soon held the bowl to his lips and let him drink.   
The taste overwhelmed him, only used to musty water and the forgotten taste of staled bread. Despite the soup being rather simple, he had trouble swallowing and began to choke. He sputtered out the liquid, feeling it begin to stain the cloth over his lap as he struggled to compose himself. The lady began to fuss, placing the bowl down and helping him sit up straighter. "I apologize, the fault is my own."  
He tried to wave the comment off, but his throat was caught in a heave as he forced himself to steady his breath. The woman waited patiently, slowly rubbing his back, an action his touch starved self was unused to. "Do you feel up to trying a second time? You can hold the bowl if you would like."  
After propping him up against the base of the tree once again, she held out the bowl for him to grab. He tried his hardest to reach out, barely managing a shaky open palm before his own arm gave out. The woman said nothing, yet a sympathetic understanding ran through her expression. "I will be slower, hopefully you can finish the bowl."  
The meal was a success on the second try, both more aware of each other and falling into a silent rhythm until the bowl had been emptied. She asked if he wanted any more, and despite barely even being able to shake his head she seemed to understand, pouring herself a bowl and sitting beside him once again, only the sounds of the light forest rain to listen to.  
"I suppose you wish to know the reason you are here with me."  
She looked over at him sadly, trying to see if she could understand anything from his limited expression, yet she could not infer his thoughts. She sighed, collecting her own thoughts as she placed her empty bowl in her lap. "I had found you in the prison, half dead through the wetness of your cloth. It seemed the prison had been recently abandoned, save for yourself, so I carried you out into the forest with the aid of my loftwing. I know not how long you had been imprisoned, I can only tell you that tonight is the third night you have travelled under my care."  
Link thought over her words, trying to understand. She could tell he was confused, so she started to speak once again. "Tomorrow we will be much closer to the lake, and I shall help you bathe and wash your cloth. Then it shall only be a day and half's travel until we reach a temple where a friend has offered us shelter. There we shall regain your strength before we move on."  
He tried to process what she was saying, but it was difficult for his malnourished mind to fully comprehend. The woman seemed to understand, helping him lay down and gently tucking a woven blanket around him. The sounds of her clearing the dishes and setting up her own place of rest began to fade, as did he while his consciousness melted into an exhausted slumber.

 

She untied Link from her loftwing, the bird stretching out its majestic wings before taking off to get some exercise. She watched as he began to wake, already seeming significantly better compared to the first night she had him under her care. "How are you feeling this morning?"  
Link looked to her, trying to form any thought that could become a sentence to share, but his mind was numbed by the years of malnutrition. The woman waited, smiling softly as her thumb slowly rubbed circles on his shoulder, letting him lean into her arm for support. He felt bad for already dirtying her white cloth. "We're at the lake, it's time to bathe. Can I undress you and help you wash?"   
He was understandably flustered, this woman wanted to strip him down and wash him? Surely she wouldn't want to soil her vision by seeing him in such a state, but he saw her waiting for his response. It didn't seem like she'd take no for an answer, it was either now with his knowledge or during his sleep.   
After his best attempt at a nod, she began to strip him of his cloth, the layers of filth making it stick to his body. He was utterly embarrassed, but before he could even begin to process that, his mind had already begun to dissociate as it had the countless other times he had been stripped in the prison. He didn't hear her carefully guiding him into the water, talking him through each step as she rubbed her cleaning rag across his limbs.   
It was only when she was scrubbing his chest that he came back, a cold-sweated panic beginning to take over as he noticed he wasn't in the cell strung up against the wall. His muscles tightened, the anxiety at the change beginning to take over as he begun to hyperventilate.   
As soon as she noticed him tense up, she dropped the rag and sat right in front of him, holding his hands and reassuring him that everything would be ok. It took a while, but soon his breathing began to steady and he seemed to be more present than he had been. "I apologize, I didn't mean to frighten you. Did I scrub too hard on your chest?"  
Link didn't know what to say. Everything seemed so strange, this woman had just broken him out of prison and now had stripped him down to nothing, and was soothing him through a panic while bathing him. "Can I continue to wash, or would you like a moment for composure?"  
Link himself didn't know, and after an extended silence, she sat next to him and began washing his cloth. It was strange, to have concern and respect shown towards him after years of neglect. He had forgotten the simplicity of kindness, something he deeply regretted.

 

_The water had begun to cool, steam no longer rising from the wooden tub the two of them sat in. Link was playing idly with old kitchen tools, trying not to move too much that his shampoo got in his eye again. His mother gently massaged the foam into his head, enjoying such a simple moment with her son._   
_"You've sat rather still for a while now, we're almost done." His mother's gentle voice encouraged him, he loved it when she encouraged him._   
_"Ma, did you see me today in the forest? I climbed the whole tree and got down again!"_   
_"I certainly did Link, you didn't shed a single tear!"_   
_"It was scary up so high, but I did it."_   
_"I'm very proud of you. Now get ready to wash this off please."_

 

The gentle fingers working through his head was familiar, his eyes slowly opening to see the mid afternoon sun reflecting on the surface of the lake. Looking to his side, he saw the white fabric of the woman floating by her leg, long golden hair bobbing through the water alongside the fabric. He slowly moved his arm, trying to reach out and hold it.   
The woman noticed, and stopped washing his hair for a moment to watch. The buoyancy of his arm in the water helped him a little, his hand slowly grabbing a long lock of the hair. "Your hair had grown quite a lot in the jail, it's quite a gorgeous colour now it's clean."  
He was surprised to find it was his hair, a gentle tug confirming that it indeed was his own long locks. The woman continued to wash his hair, working the lather through it all rather thoroughly.   
"I had finished washing your cloth and noticed you had fallen asleep, I finished scrubbing your body and moved onto your hair. It was barely an hour that you were asleep." Link silently thanked her for letting him know, unable to move or speak that thanks, but she seemed to notice his acknowledgement.   
The natural sounds of the forest were Link's focus for the rest of the wash, the ambience rather simple and peaceful, but fascinating that the sounds hadn't changed much even after his time in jail. Once the woman had finished his hair, she began to remove her own gown and took the chance to properly wash herself and her dress. Link avoided looking at her, remembering the many times his mother had said it was only decent to advert your gaze unless the woman had specified that she allowed onlookers.   
He missed his mother dreadfully, even though it had been a very long time since her passing, he would always continue to follow her teachings as best he could.

Once the woman had finished, she dried herself off and started a fire in a small clearing. Helping Link out of the water, she dried him off and sat him up against a tree nearby the fire, wrapped in the drying cloth to keep warm. He tried his best not to intentionally look at her nude form, but he was curious to see what she was doing with their clothes. Her own long hair covered her somewhat, but she seemingly had no aversion to being nude. She brought the clothes to the fire, holding them open to the heat to take away the dampness before clothing the both of them. She then wandered off to find some fruits nearby, and sat with Link to help him eat.  
"I am glad to see you've gotten better at eating. Soon you will regain your strength." Link tried to smile, only managing the smallest stretch of his lips, but the woman noticed and beamed her own heavenly smile.   
She really was a gorgeous woman, perhaps it was his own isolation that made him think so, but seeing her smile in the daylight, getting a proper look at her, he really did think she was beautiful. When he was strong enough to speak, he had to make he thanked her properly.  
"That is the last of the fruit, we shall rest here until my loftwing returns and then we shall head towards the temple."

 

It was dark when he opened his eyes, the wind strong on his face. He saw the red wings of the loftwing to his side, open and gliding through the air, and felt his back leaning against the woman's, tied together with rope around their middles. Never had he thought he would see the forest from above the tallest trees, but here he was.  
He was more than a little surprised when the bird suddenly dived down, having to reluctantly place his faith on the woman and the rope that held them. He wasn't prepared for the landing, his teeth hitting each other on impact, winding him in the process. The woman quickly got off, carrying his weight on her back as she hurried into a large building. They must've been at the temple.  
A strange woman met them inside, quickly cutting the rope that held him to the woman who rescued her, running to close the heavy doors to the side of the temple. She came back, quickly tending to the loftwing who seemed rather out of breath and a little strained, her long and slender hands running up and down the wings to check for injury.   
Link was carried to a wall, propped up against it rather quickly as the woman ripped his cloth up to reveal his middle. She gasped, calling over the other woman, Impa, to look closer. "He has been injured by the rope, you were too quick in landing and running with him on your back." Impa's voice was stern, yet laced with obvious concern at what had happened.   
She ran off somewhere, the other woman laying him down gently on the tile and apologizing sincerely. Impa returned, bottles of strange liquids and various cloths and sponges within a small chest she carried. "He has been winded, he struggles to breathe. Please calm him so I can treat him."   
She placed his head in her lap, gently rubbing his head as he tried his best to regain his breath. It burned to breathe, his skin stretching with each deep gasp, reminded of the all too familiar reality that he was barely a skeleton. However, he soon calmed, catching his breath and steadying it Impa began looking over him.   
She anointed some oils over the harsh bruise around his middle, taking care not to press too harshly and damage him further. She then held up his arm to examine his wrists, the poorly healed wounds already reopened with the quick landing. "I did not realise I had reopened old wounds during the decent, I am sorry."   
Link looked up to the woman, trying his best to convey through the closest resemblance of a smile he could muster, that she was forgiven. "Why did you rush, I was not expecting you until tomorrow."  
"We had stopped to wash in the lake, once we had dried and redressed my loftwing came back looking rather agitated. I tried to calm him, but he wouldn't calm, instead leading me to a nearby thicket where a group of bokoblins were on a hunt of their own. They were heading our way, so I had to rush to put out our fire and make our way to the temple through the evening skies."  
Impa didn't speak, instead silently acknowledging what was said as she cleaned and wrapped his wrists. "Please sit him up and remove his cloth, I must inspect for other wounds."   
He was promptly hoisted up, his old cloth removed and his head resting upon the woman's shoulders and Impa cleaned the many old wounds on his back, wrapping the particularly bad ones with more bandages. She then asked he be laid down as she worked on his legs, his ankles in just as bad a state as his wrists.  
"Please fetch some sleeping clothes for the boy and yourself, I trust you can dress him on your own as I prepare you both places to rest?"  
"Yes." She left them, him now alone with Impa as she ran her hands across his limbs, almost rhythmic as she checked each part of his body for internal injury. She deemed him fine for the moment, and left to prepare bedding for the two of them. It was a little awkward for her to dress him, him now stiffer due to the bandages, but she managed. They sat in silence for a while, her having propped him on his lap once more as she ran her fingers through his hair to comfort him.   
"They are ready, this way." Impa grabbed Link with ease, carrying him like an overgrown child before laying him on the bedding. Before they tucked him in, Impa insisted that he drink some red liquid from an old bottle, saying it will help him heal. He tried his best to drink it, not choking this time, then he was laid down and tucked in to sleep before the two women wandered off to attend the loftwing.

 

He woke alone, his body aching and his tongue dry. He laid there, listening to see if he could hear the women nearby at all. He was thankful that it wasn't long before Impa came to check on him, another bottle of red for him to drink. She sat him up, slowly helping him drink, before carrying him outside where she had prepared a meal.  
"Oh, Good morning! You seem to have regained some colour to your face as you slept." The blonde woman smiled as she knelt down in her white gown, the soft breeze blowing her hair in the wind as she helped Impa prepare his serving.  
"Now that you are awake, let us formally introduce." An air of seriousness washed over them, the woman preparing what seemed to be a well rehearsed introduction.  
"I am Hylia, protector of the Triforce as entrusted by the Old Gods. Beside me, the servant of the Goddess, Impa, chosen to aid and protect." Impa bowed her head at the mention of her name and title, then handing Hylia a cup to raise to him.  
"Chosen Knight, by which name do we call you?" She raised the cup, waiting patiently for him to mutter his name. He cleared his throat, trying his best to keep the formality, before pushing out his name to the best of his abilitly.   


"Link."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up entirely too late trying to get this chapter finished while I had the inspiration, and in the name of procrastination I finished editing today. It feels strange that I've finished the starting two chapters and published them, they've spent so long as wips on my laptop haha, but they're up now.  
> Hopefully I can continue the next chapter soon, but as I said I have no real guarantee of when my updates will be uploaded.  
> Thank you for reading, see you in the next chapter~


	3. - III -

_The house was still, only the flickering of the candlelight in view and the faintest of snores from his father. He sat up, remembering he had fallen asleep kneeling by the bedside. Despite being young he had such a stiff neck from the awkward position, he was beginning to understand why the aunts and uncles of the village requested help when getting off the floor._  
_He looked up over to his father; colour was returning to his face, but he was still ill. Removing the damp cloth, he went to re-wet it, wringing it out before placing it back on his father's forehead. His fever really was bad, but it would be almost gone soon. Hopefully before his mother and uncle returned, but he wanted them to return quickly regardless. It was when he tried to retuck his father that he woke, croaking out the word 'drink' before slowly trying to sit himself up._  
_He helped him to drink the water, then helping him lay back down comfortably. "Link, my son, what is the time?"_  
_"It is the middle of the night, I'm not sure of the hour."_  
_"I see." He exhaled loudly, trying to steady his breath and sleep again, knowing how hard it must be for his young son to care for him alone. "How many days have they been travelling?"_  
_"This sunrise will be the fourth. Hopefully they will return in the late afternoon."_  
_"Good, good. Have you been looking after yourself, son?"_  
_His father looked over to him, noticing sadly that he sat in pyjamas he hadn't changed out of since he fell with the fever, his young eyes already pulled down by bags underneath. "Please, go rest in your own bed tonight Link."_  
_He shook his head, leaning over and resting his head on the edge of his fathers bed. He lifted his hand out from under the covers and places it over his son's head comfortingly. "Soon my son, they will return soon to help, and I will recover as fast as I can." Link hummed along, already falling asleep from the past few sleepless nights, and his father sent out a silent prayer._

  
_"Please, my grace, grant my son a peaceful nights rest, and let his hard work pay off._  
_Please, grant my wife and brother a safe passage home, and a quick return._  
_And please my grace, may you travel safely to your home and rest soundly tonight as well."_

 

Link had been laying with his eyes fixed on the dancing shadow from the bedside candle reflected on the ceiling. He didn't know how long he had been staring, but he had only just realised that it was foreign. Surely the guards wouldn't give me candlelight after all this time without?  
His mind began to race with thoughts, wondering what deed they had in store for him. He was worried, was this going to be his end? What would they do to him?  
He flinched with fear when he felt a hand on his forearm, hearing how frantic his breath had been now that he held it in shock. "Link! Link! I didn't mean to scare you, Link what is wrong?"  
The voice, that voice seemed familiar...  
He turned his head at the sudden appearance of a woman in the doorway, her own candle flooding the room with light. "What is wrong?"  
His eyes adjusted to the light, and he recognised her, Impa. He turned to the other woman by his side, and saw the woman introduced as Hylia, her eyes wide in a mixture of fear and concern. Impa hurriedly made her way to his bedside, placing her candle by the bed and running her hands over his body.  
Link stiffened, although he knew she had no ill intent, to very sensation of touch seemed painful, if not in actuality, it hurt in association. "Help me take him outside, he is stiff with stress and needs fresh air."  
The girls hoisted him up, keeping him wrapped in the blanket as they carried him outside into the courtyard. They sat him against one of the many trees, and once he was propped up Impa had rushed back inside. Hylia stayed with him, watching very carefully as his breath slowed and steadied, returning to normal after a time. She smiled softly, reaching out to place her hand on his arm again, it hovering as she hesitated before recoiling for his benefit.  
Impa returned with a tray full of tea, along with one little red bottle for Link. Hylia helped him to drink it as Impa prepared the tea, and Link watched in fascination at her seemingly practised way of preparing and serving the tea. Soon she handed a cup to Hylia, and she held it to Link's lips for him to drink.  
"This is one of my favourite's of Impa's blends, she only ever makes it if it the moon is out at the same time as herself." Link smiled, enjoying the taste on his tongue. His body relaxed after a few sips, enjoying the moonlight in comfortable silence with the two. A soft breeze rattled the leaves in the trees, the clouds parting to show a full moon in the sky.  
Impa began to hum softly, a simple tune that suited the air around them. He looked to Impa, her eyes closed as she swayed in time to her own song, an almost spiritual aura around her as her song carried through the air. Hylia looked up to the sky wistfully, looking divine in the moonlight as her hair blew in the breeze. He looked up himself, eyes wandering over the stars that surrounded the moon in the dark sky. Impa's lullaby was soothing, allowing his tired eyes to close once more, drifting off as Impa's lullaby faded into a whisper.

  
The two women stared at him, seeing him sleep with a peaceful expression. "Impa, how long will it take for him to recover?"  
"Hylia, my grace, it is only a matter of time before his body will heal and grow with the strength he needs. However, it is his mind I am worried about."  
"Why his mind?"  
"There are no potions I can make to soothe his thoughts like I can soothe his body, nothing to speed his recovery or cleanse it of it's blights. It will be up to him, and I worry he will never fully recover."  
Hylia thought in silence, staring at the man. It had already been a week, and time after time he would wake up in a frenzy, scared beyond his wits as she tried to comfort him. "Why does he cry and shake when he opens his eyes? He is safe, and we've made him comfortable, so why is he scared?"  
"My dear Hylia, it will be hard to understand, even I have trouble helping him without scaring him. But we must learn, for his sake, as he is lost and confused. I imagine you would be terrified if your routine of solitude and abuse was broken by the comfort and presence of another."  
"He must be thinking the worst every time he wakes..."  
"I suppose when you're used to the absolute worst as you struggle with every breath, waking to find it easier would present as much more unsettling than we intend."  
"I see..." Hylia moved closer to Link, gently brushing his hair out of his face, smiling sadly as she noticed his cheeks had begun to fill, but they were still much too hollow. The gentle breeze began to grow stronger, and a familiar voice began to echo in her ear. She turned to see Impa bowing down in prayer, so she listened carefully.

  
_"Hylia, my grace, thank you for bringing this boy into my care._  
_I shall work hard to ensure his recovery. Please give me the gift of patience as I heal his beaten body and try to ease his distressed mind._  
_Please grant this boy the strength he needs to continue, and grant him small joys often as he recovers._  
_And my grace, I wish you the strength, patience and joy you grant us."_

  
His eyes opened, hearing the sound of nature outside the walls that held him. He felt his throat tighten, his brow already breaking out in sweat. He sat up shakily, looking over to the bed next to his, folded and left neat for the day ahead. He was alone, but not as alone as before. He steadied his breath, albeit not by much, but he had tried. His body still trembled with a fear he knew didn't exist, but he couldn't calm the shaking alone.  
He heard footsteps coming closer, his hands reached up to cover his ears as he curled into himself and rocked back and forth. _They're coming, they're going to throw me on the floor and soak me, they're going to-_  
"Link, good morning."  
He stopped rocking, his heavy breathing so loud in his ears but he noticed that nothing was happening. Nothing, they weren't throwing him on the floor, they weren't throwing a bucket of old water on him, they weren't hurting him in any way at all. Slowly he lifted his head, seeing the familiar woman, her hand extended as her white sleeve draped gracefully from her arm.  
He spent a long time just staring at her hand, his mind taking entirely too long to figure out that she was offering to help him get up. Gingerly, he held out his shaking hand, placing the skeletal palm in her warm and soft one. Her grip was strong yet gentle, and she pulled him to his feet with ease. She began to bend over, to hoist him up and carry him outside, but he raised his hand as if to say no.  
Surprised, Hylia obliged, helping him sling his arm over her shoulders as she held his waist for support. Her grip around him was already a little too much for him, but he wanted to try. He was shaking, his feet weak with years of disuse, but he wanted to walk.  
Slowly, one step was made. Small, barely an inch, but he had taken a step.  
Slowly, he took another, and another. It was a painfully slow shuffle, but he was walking. Hylia was beaming, so proud of him for trying and they walked all the way out into the courtyard before he began to collapse from lack of strength.  
Impa watched from a distance, letting them enjoy their own moment as Hylia sat him down by the usual tree to catch his breath. He was still shaking, but a hint of a smile was tugging at his lips.

He had grown stronger, soon he will be ready, but not without time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy, thanks for reading this far!  
> Hope you're enjoying it so far~~ I know it's a bit of a shorter chapter, but I have been thinking over this for a while haha  
> Hylink week is going to be soon, are you guys going to participate? I'm looking forward to it


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